


Competence

by Arabwel



Series: My Mating Games Shenanigans [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Werewolf Victoria Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arabwel/pseuds/Arabwel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The knife clatters to the floor. He can’t do it. </p><p>And then it’s too late – the moonlight streams through the window and she is rising, eyes growing gold and heavy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competence

**Author's Note:**

> My entry to Week 5 of Mating Games Round 2!

The knife clatters to the floor. He can’t do it. 

And then it’s too late – the moonlight streams through the window and she is rising, eyes growing gold and heavy. 

He knows he should run, he should pick up the knife, he should – there’s a newly-turned werewolf in his house, his daughter is down the hall and this can only end in so much blood – 

Victoria turns and her eyes gleam in the moonlight. He notes her impeccable eyebrows are gone, her ears now pointed and hairy – and her mouth is full of fangs. 

“Christopher.” She inhales, and he knows she is scenting him. 

She surges forward and he doesn’t get out of the way in time, the fact that this is _Victoria_ keeping him rooted on the spot.

He’s pinned down expertly and he knows he can’t get out of her grip, not with her now enhanced strength. He braces himself for the blow that never comes – instead their eyes meet, blue on amber. 

The kiss is full of fangs and tongue and he tastes blood and he tastes _Victoria_ ; tastes the iron control she’s always embodied and which has not lost to the wolf howling inside her. Chris can’t help it, he groans into the kiss and what little give there is has him scrabbling to take hold of her hips as she straddles him. She grinds down on him, feral and gorgeous and Chris is harder than he’s ever been in his life. 

Victoria pulls back and licks her lips, her eyes wide and luminous. It should be unsettling, should horrify him to see the wolf in them but he can’t help but stare in wonder as the ridges slowly melt away, leaving behind the golden glow and a hint of fang. She is achingly beautiful, more so than she’s ever been. 

“Vicky…” he whispers, his voice full of awe. 

“Shut up, Chris.”

When her teeth latch onto his neck, it’s to bruise and mark, not to tear. The noise Chris makes deep in his throat is more animal than her answering moan, and when his hands come up to her hips he knows she would bruise if she - He pushes the thought from his mind and surges up to meet her, his rough human hands rending the blue silk of her top as his mouth seeks out her breasts. She’s even more responsive than usual when his lips latch onto her puffy nipple, a subvocal growl vibrating through them both. 

He hisses, head thrown back when she yanks open his pants, sending the buttons flying. Even with the cotton of his boxers between him and the hand palming him, he can feel the inhuman heat in her touch as she gets rid of both of their underwear, the hint of claws instead of her perfect manicure tantalizing. 

There’s more than a hint of claws when she sinks down on him, hot and wet with arousal. Chris feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s sixteen again and pushing inside her body for the first time. He can smell the blood beading on his arms through his torn shirt but he doesn’t care, his eyes transfixed on the arch of his wife’s body as she throws her head back and bites back a howl. 

She’s a werewolf in the house of hunters and Chris has never loved her more than he does right now, when it’s evident that she’s conquered the beast within, that she’s still _Victoria._

She rides him long and hard, and he nearly blacks out when he comes crying out her name. 

Victoria ends up draped over his heaving chest, loosely held in the circle of his arms when she makes a contemplative noise. “I think it’s time Beacon Hills had a _competent_ alpha.”


End file.
